


The Flash Point

by ParadoxR



Series: Hit the Sky [5]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s01e01/2 Children of the Gods, F/M, Internal Conflict, Military, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2239224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadoxR/pseuds/ParadoxR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I had a question about the colonel. He doesn’t seem to like me much.” Lou almost chokes at her. Interesting interpretation.</p><p>Short conversations from the weekend after Chulak and before SG-1. Mid-story standalones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Best Era (Sam, SJ)

**Author's Note:**

> This series follows the effect of one major canon change. Aliens don’t speak English. Chulak gets harder, Teal’c gets lost, Jack-Skaara can't get as close. In fact, Chulak goes so poorly (the "52nd Hour" saga), that the president doesn’t approve SG teams until the weekend _after_ CotG. This is the interim.
> 
> Rated for cursing, which gets a little salty. Every team needs a good storming period.

Sam sets her watch alarm and throws herself back under the showerhead. The water burns, which is nice. It’s nice that it’s just the water; the stuff Fraiser used has numbed her from head to toe. Sam keeps her eyes closed and washes around the bandages. No need to look at the bruises. Or burns, or blisters. _Or bites._ She tentatively reaches for the dirt matted in her hair. _Yes, your CO actually bit you._ Twice. Not that it’d worked. Which is pretty pathetic on her part. Doctor Fraiser said she’d been unconscious for several minutes. _You woke up in the wormhole._ Spinning colors, freezing cold, melting ice. _No pain._

The fog doesn’t leave her head. Sam reaches blindly for her watch and shuts off the alarm. Screw the team dinner. The colonel probably wants her to skip it anyway. Manipulative SOB. _And smart. He’s great at his job, Sam._

Her bandaged hand tugs at the showerhead in distraction. What she really needs is a bath. Maybe she can use one in the infirmary. Unlikely. Fraiser doesn’t seem to like her much. The doc doesn’t seem to like any of her patients much. _Well, stop being a pain in the ass._ True. So no bath, then. What she really needs is to sleep anyway. For four solid days. With no Jaffa, no collapsing mines, no rain, no exploding alien technology, no refugees, no beatings, no black ops guys.

She stares directly into showerhead. It burns. What she _needs_  to do is stop thinking about sleeping with a black ops guy. _He’s at least fifteen years older than you._ This is stupid. They’re probably shipping her back to DC anyway. She’s met plenty of nice guys out there. It’s just that most of them don’t end up bare chested in the Gate Room with her terrified fingers digging into their biceps. _Nice biceps._

_Screw you._

Just what she needs, a crush on a jerkish black ops officer. Isn’t that how all the best eras of her life start? Let go of the good and squeeze onto the bad.

And he is a jerk. _Not really._ Well, sometimes. And sometimes he holds her on a riverbank when he should be kicking her ass to get them off a nowhere planet. _He’s just doing his job._ _He’s good at his job._ Yeah, and as a person, he doesn’t like scientists, insults Academy grads, _says_ he likes women, is a certifiably insensitive bastard, and scoffs at the job she’d been handpicked to do _years_ before he or Doctor Jackson even knew the stupid Gate existed. _You really think they’d send me across the galaxy to Ancient Egypt because I can program a supercomputer?_ Screw him. _I just saved your ass several times, you know._

_You’re talking to a showerhead._

Sam sighs and turns it off.

_Did you really go from ‘he’s great at his job’ to ‘I want to sleep with him’ to ‘he’s a total asshole’ in four minutes?_

_Did you really just spend your entire shower thinking about your CO?_

She steps out. It’s time to do something about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell how badly I wanted them to run into each other in the shower? Ugh. So tempting.


	2. A Difficult Time (Sam & Lou, SJ)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m about to ‘explain’ how Jack’s a pilot. I think it’s s8 canon-compliant and ’97 regulation-compliant. Nominally uniform compliant if you pretend it’s post-Paris but pre-Saigon.

It’s not until she’s dry and dressed that Sam realizes she has no idea _what_ to do about it. _Because you have no idea what’s wrong._ Unfortunately, she can only think of one way to find out.

“Major.” _You should’ve knocked._ She should’ve left.

Lou’s head raises to the open door. His eyes clearly wish he were still asleep, but Hammond needs his talking paper before Lou flies back to Mildenhall. Which he is absolutely, positively, without a doubt doing directly after the dinner and debrief. So his wife tells him in no uncertain terms. “Captain.”

“I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

 _Shit, do you always need so many words?_ “If it’s quick.” He almost snaps it at her.

The captain squares her corner on the spot, suddenly the nervous over-professional. Lou almost chokes on his third cup of coffee. Whoops. “Sam. Sit.” He tries to speed her along with just his gaze. It works, but he feels bad anyway. The young woman did just save his life a couple times.

“I had a question about the colonel. He doesn’t seem to like me much.”

Lou almost chokes again. _Interesting interpretation._ “How’s that?”

“I suspect it’s because I’m a scientist. And an academy grad.”

Lou doesn’t bother wincing. “It’s just a couple comments, Sam.” _Would you freaking unwind a little?_

She nods. “I know. But this is deeper than that, isn’t it?”

Now Lou does grimace. “I really don’t know him that well.”

“But you know why I bother him.”

 _Because he’s completely infatuated with you?_ Lou sighs. His former CO deserves a little joy in his life. The least Lou can do is dispel her of this. “It’s not at all personal.”

Sam nods, not at all persuaded.

Lou tries again. “I really don’t know.” Another unconvincing silence. “You could ask him.” _Wow, does she have that look down or what? _Lou sighs. “You have to remember that Jack went to college at a very different time.”

“Vietnam.” Sam prods.

 _Oh, fine._ Into the breach. “Yeah. It’s not that he couldn’t’ve gone to the Zoo.”

“He’s brilliant.”

That earns a smile. “Good that you noticed. He’s not real revealing about it.”

“Is that why I bother him?”

“ _That_ bothers all of us, Sam.” Lou chuckles it off. Sam doesn’t. “But no. Jack enlisted. Out of college, into flight school. Army helos. It was the end, but I think it was a hard time for him.”

 Sam gapes slightly despite herself. “He’s upset because he thinks I’m a _draft_ dodger?” That’s ridiculous. “Sir, I was six years old when Saigon fell.” This can’t be it.

Lou chuckles. “You may not want to say that exactly.” The math on his would-be girlfriend’s age probably won’t do much for Jack’s attitude. She fidgets slightly in front of him. “Seriously, Sam. I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s not personal; he’ll get over it. He…’ll like you.” _Smooth tense change you got there, buddy._

“He’s retiring.” Sam corrects. _Then why are you so hung up on this?_

“All the more reason not to worry about it, then.” Lou nods pointedly and turns back to his desktop screen. It’ll work out. The then-retired colonel is going to get a piece of his mind if it doesn’t.

“Howdy, folks.”

Sam almost jumps clear out of her seat. Lou sort of does, too. There are no coincidental entrances when Jack O’Neill’s involved. _Did you say anything stupid just now?_ He doesn’t need to check; it’s usually true. _Right then._ “I’m going to have to skip dinner, Jack. My flight’s right after the debriefing.” Lou holds up his notes and tries not to look like he’s hiding behind them.

“I really should too, Sir. I, uh—”

It comes out in such a rush that Jack can only grab the tail end. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. Hammond’s bumping up the debrief.” His captain fidgets. “Should’ve slept when you had the chance, Captain.” Jack thinks she deserves the punch. Of course, now he’ll have to avoid yawning the entire briefing himself, but it’s worth it if she actually learns to take care of herself.

“Oh.” Sam is already talking to an empty office as she follows the men out. She misses the pointed looks between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Jack’s a wingless pilot. Woohoo. I contend the flying in 4.14 is more helo-style anyway, and all the alien stuff is…alien. It’s clearly more intuitive, with how quick they and Sheppard pick it up. So says I. Sam comes later.


	3. All to Blame (Full Cast)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the debriefing of my “52nd Hour” saga. If you read it already, I’m not usually one to tell you something twice, but there are some things worth catching in this short segment.

“Seats, at ease.” General Hammond cuts to the head of the table. “My apologies, folks. I know you’re all quite tired. This won’t be a full debriefing.” Charlie almost pumps his fist. “I managed to get on the president’s calendar for tomorrow morning. I light of the problems with your first mission, the authorization for permanent SG teams has been put on hold until then. My flight leaves in thirty minutes.”

Jack doesn’t dawdle. “We were ambushed on Chulak within a few hours.” His CO moves to interrupt. “The details and counter tactics will be in my report.” Hammond nods; they both know the details won’t do much for the command pilot anyway. “Carter pulled a nice duck-and-run, buried a P90 and some C4.”

Sam sits razor still. The general just nods to her.

“Actually, Jack, Teal’c let her slip.” Teal’c inclines his head to Daniel at the sound of his name.

Jack continues over Carter’s unnecessary ‘thank you’. “They captured the men, tossed us in with about thirty civilian prisoners.”

“Twenty-six.” Daniel corrects.

“And what happened to them?”

Now Jack deliberately hands it to Daniel. Jack still doesn’t understand it. “Uh, they’re in a labor camp, General. We didn’t think we should send them back here, but I didn’t realize what Teal’c had in mind until later. It’s run by a benevolent Jaffa, though.”

“A _benevolent_ Jaffa?” Jack kicks back. Because those exist.

“Jack, _Teal’c_ is a benevolent Jaffa.”

Good point.

“Anyway, Carter?”

Sam jerks. _Now you need to sleep? _ “Sir?”

“The prison break?” _Wake up. Can you give a debriefing?_ He slides her the coffee pot and manages a not-particularly-judgmental look.

 _He wants you to talk about that?_ “Um, ok. I escaped on the way to the women’s prison. I couldn’t save them and I couldn’t find that weapons stash or the men’s prison.” _Great story, Sam._ “But I managed to sneak an M9 in when I got caught again.” She rubs her back unconsciously. “Colonel O’Neill and Teal’c broke us out.”

Daniel cuts in. Lou and Charlie don’t; it’s faster that way. “Mister Teal’c led us to evade most of the patrols, and we managed to get to the Gate long enough to evacuate the refugees.”

 _‘Mister’ Teal’c, Daniel?_ Jack nods and forgives the interruption. “Right. ‘Mister’ Teal’c then assisted us in the battle to exfil us all through the Gate. Carter remembered an address from the Abydos cartouche.” Jack looks at his captain to start her up again. She’s keeping it short, at least.

“But that dialing device was broken, General. It took our entire time on the planet to make it work.”

Hammond nods. “So we noticed.”

“Thanks for the radio, by the way.” Jack tags on, shaking the imaginary device.

Daniel rolls his eyes. “And by ‘we’, Sam means her. Mostly she and Teal’c made it work.”

“That’s not—”

“And if I’d thought to ask about the naquadah, they wouldn’t have had to do a lot of it.”

“ _I_ should’ve noticed the naquadah—”

“Alright.” It’s not exclamatory, but it is loud. Silence falls for Jack immediately. “We can all digest our slice of the blame later, kids. Anything else we’ve _learned_?” Jack turns pointedly, back to facing Hammond. _Whoops._ He’s stepping on his toes. _Sorry._

_It’s alright, Colonel._

“We’ve learned Teal’c shouldn’t be sent back to lockup in the infirmary.”

Hammond nods. “I understand that, Doctor Jackson. It will be difficult to protect him, however.”

“He’s enraged about us just giving up and destroying our Gate.” Daniel continues, clearly with similar frustration. “He wants to leave before that. I’m going with him.”

“Doctor Jackson,”

“General, my _wife_ is out there. We’re at _war_ , right now. Right now!”

“ _Doctor Jackson._ ” Silence descends again. “I have a meeting with the president of the United States tomorrow, and I am _not convinced_ we are losing our Stargate.” Hammond’s voice actually booms. He studies each individually with too much experience in his eyes. _They’re all to near the edge._

Daniel exhales slowly.

“I’m asking for you to wait until Monday. Three days, Doctor Jackson. Stay calm.”

Daniel nods into his steepled fingers. _You want to be a diplomat for Chrissake?_

“Now, is there anything I can _use_ in that meeting with our president? Because he and the Joint Chiefs are… alarmed about your difficult return from Chulak.” ‘Alarmed’ for a solid two hours on his red phone.

“Apophis is coming. In ships.” Daniel says calmly.

“We’re sure of this?”

“Yes, General.” Jack confirms, just as coldly.

It’s Hammond’s turn to exhale. “Alright, write it up. Why will Gate travel help?”

Daniel scoffs. “It certainly can’t make things _worse_.” _What the hell could be worse than this?_

“Can’t it? It’s already done so. Has it not, Colonel?”

Jack lets his jaw twitch but doesn’t sigh. He won’t beat around it, but he wishes the captain weren’t here. Carter winces visibly under the guilt of ever turning the Gate on. “It was a monopolar regime, General. It’s now a different one. In terms of destabilizing the galaxy, I don’t see us sinking that ship much farther. Yet.”

Hammond nods. That’s a heck of a position to argue to his commander-in-chief. “Alright, folks. Send me your talking papers tonight. Mission reports and position papers by local noon Sunday. Have a good weekend.” He waits a beat for further comments. “Dismissed. Colonel, my office.”


	4. The Nuclear Option (Jack & Hammond)

Jack leans forward in the visitor’s chair.

“General.”

“Colonel.”

 _Ohhh, no you don’t._ “General, if this is an invitation to the Oval Office, that couch is way too uncomfortable for these knees.”

Hammond snorts. He certainly knows special tactics commander is familiar with the Office. “It’s not an invitation.” That doesn’t mean Hammond’s eager to take him back there, even if he could. _In fact, it means you’re not._

“Good. Well then, if that’s all…”

Hammond doesn’t move. “I need you to stay, Jack.”

Fortunately, Jack O’Neill plays ignorant quite well. “I know, General. But you should know the guest quarters here aren’t exactly comfortable either.”

“Not temporarily.” Hammond lets his eyes harden. “I’m _going_ to buy us time, Colonel. Whether they still want to destroy our Stargate or not.” He fixes his colonel with an entirely unyielding gaze. “I need you to use that time.”

 _Oh shit._ Jack slaps his hands off his lap. “Nope. Sorry. No can do, General.” Slap, slap. _You’d fuck up everything._ Jack starts gesturing with just a little too much animation. “There’s this fabulous lake in Virginia calling my name. You know, it’s a great time to buy, I could—”

“Colonel!” Silence, again. George doesn’t have time for this. “I _need you to stay_.”

Jack exhales. “With all due respect, General, you don’t.” What the hell good could Jack do like this? He can’t even hold his family together, much less a base. Hell, the last time he did what Washington wanted him to do, he nuked the balance of power of the galaxy. And he has no desire to think about the time before that.

 _He believes that._ It must’ve been a heck of a mission. “Give me until Monday.”

“Sorry, General, you know I’m already gone. Effective,” Jack glances at his watch unnecessarily, “already.” It’s a neat trick he’d managed to pull off. Thankfully.

Hammond glances at his own watch. His helicopter is waiting for him. “Report back here on Monday.” The major general manages to brook no argument without actually slamming the door. He knows what Colonel O’Neill’s been through, but he’s damnably difficult about it.


	5. Get Out (SJ)

_Bad idea bad idea bad idea bad idea_

Knock, knock.

“Enter.”

“Sir, Captain Carter repor—”

“Sit, at ease. Whadaya want?” _I’m retired._

“Sir, I’d like to know why you’re retiring.”

Jack raises and eye to her and then thinks better of it. “I _am_ retired, Captain, because I should be.”

Sam catches the hint but doesn’t hold onto it. “And why is that, Sir?”

“Captain, I am forty-four years old.” _‘Would you like to go to dinner sometime?’_ “And that is none of your business.”

“Sir, with all due respect,”

“Captain!” God, that fucking attitude.

“What’re you running from?!”

Jack freezes.

 _Oh shit._ “Sir, I…” _That was not how you were supposed to ask that, Captain._ She’s never exactly been complimented for her tact.

“Captain. Carter.”

Sam exhales above her clinched jaw.

 _She’s right. You are running from it._ Running from ‘it’, running from her. “Dismissed.” And both seem like a damn good idea.

One more exhale. “With all due respect, Sir, I think I deserve to know.”

 _You what? _“And why in God’s name would you deserve _that_?” _Yeah, there’s clearly nothing wrong with you, asshole._

 _Don’t blink._ “Because I think it’s about to cost me my job. It might cost us this war.”

Jack almost kicks his desk. Hammond was one thing. But _Carter_? _She doesn’t know, Jack._ She doesn’t know. Doesn’t know he’s fucking useless long-term anymore. Just ask his ex-wife. “Get out.” Out of his office, out of his life, out of his _head_.

Sam lets her eyes close briefly. She squares every corner on the way out.


	6. In My Zeal (Jack & Daniel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Fic descriptions got a bit of a makeover. ^^

“You’re not seriously leaving?”

Jack exhales slowly. Again. “Daniel. I was _temporarily_ recalled to duty.” _Because they were going to kill you._ He squeezes the metal edges of the locker.

“But I need your help!” Daniel doesn’t quite slam the door.

“No, you don’t.” The mirror above the sink is fogged. Jack doesn’t look at it.

“Jack, Sha’re is out there! _Skaara_ is out there. We have to go!”

“Daniel.” Jack sighs, finally turning to the distraught man. “It doesn’t work that way. _We’re_ not going anywhere. Just hang on.”

“Hang on?! You’re a special ops colonel! They called you in here!” Daniel sweeps his hand around the base’s locker room.

Jack feels the grit on his teeth. “ ‘They’ ordered me here for a  _suicide_ mission. You have any more of those lying around?”

“Jack…”

“The only ‘duty’ I’m ‘fit’ for is a mission where _I die_.” Ask the fucking shrinks.

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s my _life_!” _His wife is missing._ Jack breathes deeply. “There’s a _reason_ colonels can’t go ‘out there’, Daniel. This is a _war_. I have a responsibility to the people here.”

“Exactly!” Daniel almost shakes him.

Jack stares at the insides of his eyelids for a minute. _You want to work._ “I have a responsibility to _not_ shoot them across the galaxy with someone who hasn’t been active in the field since _1987._ ”

_That makes sense._ Daniel finds something to slam. “Damnit, Jack! My _wife_ is out there!”

“I know.” _Stay. Calm. Colonel._

“Then help me!”

The metal digs in farther. “Do _you_ want to write the letter to Lou’s wife? To Warren’s? To Cho’s? Do you want to explain to them how in my zeal to save someone I loved, I killed someone _they_ love?”

Daniel pauses, panting.

“This is a war! My job is to _not_ put anyone in it that isn’t ready. That’s how good people die.” _‘Sir, I can’t!’ ‘Ben, RUN!’_ “And I’m not ready.” _It echoes in the smoke._ “We have people specialized in long-range reconnaissance and first-contact operations. Hammond will get them.” _‘Dear Mrs. Alence,’_

Daniel won’t look at him. He sniffs.

Jack sits heavily. The bench creaks.

That one is definitely a sob.

_Help_ _him, you emotionally-inhibited bastard._ Jack’s slides over. He should be leading the entire 720th Special Tactics Group right now. So he should probably get his head out of his ass.

Daniel wraps his arms around himself and walks forward. The younger man lands painfully.

“Just hang on.” Jack raises a hand to his shoulder. “I want them back. This is the right way to do it.”

“I have to _do_ something.”

Jack just nods. _That Others May Live. De Oppresso Liber._


	7. Two Thousand (Jack & Charlie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this sounds a little stilted. They're wearing my best military-to-civilian translators.

“I’m sorry, Daniel.”

Charlie pauses in the doorway. “I’ll tell him that.”

 _Oh._ “You too.” Jack adds, staring directly notat the foggy mirror.

Charlie leans against an empty locker. This’ll be rough. “Sorry for…?”

“I’m not staying.” Jack says. He’s fiddling with his leather jacket.

“Well, duh.” _So much for asking that._

“Charlie! I’m a retired full-bird sitting under a bunker run by a two-star general! I’m _leaving_.”

Charlie’s eyes roll. “I said yes.” _Just keep telling yourself that, buddy._

“Oh.” Jack glances to the left of his best friend. _He gets it._ Apparently it’s just captains and distraught archeologists. “How are those oak leaves feeling, anyway?”

Charlie snorts. “Great. New car smell’s starting to wear off.”

“Firefights tend to have that effect on promotions.” Jack relaxes slightly, though he doesn’t look at him. _Calm down._ Most people don’t expect him to stick around a place he has no business being.

Charlie opens a locker next to him for no reason. “Hammond ask you to stay, too?”

Jack shrugs. “He wants the advice.” _Which you’d be stupid not to give._ He should probably stop letting himself be stupid.

Darn. “You sure that’s all?”

“Actually, no, Major. He wants to stick me on your team forever.” Because he can’t even joke about training up this place. Not on his psych profile.

Charlie snorts. “Full-Bird Colonel Comes Out of Retirement to Lead Four-Man Team Across Galaxy.” He waves his hand across the imaginary headline. “Colonel Has Not Seen the Inside of an MC-4 Parachute Canopy Since 1985. Mistakenly Brings Pencil Sharpener Instead of P90.” Charlie glances surreptitiously. ’85 was a bad year.

Jack thwaps him with a towel.

“Colonel’s Aim Has Deteriorated since Mistakenly Doing Some Real Work in Desert Storm. Field Commander Reports Ineffective Even for Teasing.”

Jack scowls. He’d hit him straight on. “Like we’d need parachutes.” If ‘real work’ is being _left behind_ in a forward HQ attack. _Are you done testing me yet, you SOB?_

“That depends on who you take with you. I happen to have it on good authority that your girlfriend has a thing for knocking over Stargates.”

“Hey.” Because he’s thirty years too old to pull off _‘she’s not my girlfriend!’_. Carter’s not ready yet anyway. For off-world work. _Change the subject, you idiot._ He scrambles for one of the dozen memos he just sent. “Hammond should call Zetterholm.” Yeah, the important memo.

Charlie transitions subordinately. Jack really is too bottled up to stay here now. “Zet’s done with the Third Special Forces Group?”

“Yeah. On staff in the Pentagon D-Ring somewhere.”

Snort. Ah, the mythical D-Ring. “And you think he’d step all the way down here?” It’s light, but not a joke. Colonel Zet had two thousand guys in the Third. _Because, you know, he’s a colonel._ Charlie boots the locker unconsciously. And Jack’s down here. _Come on, buddy. Heal._

“For the first year. He’s got the people. And the connections.” Charlie just nods at him. He’s distracted. _Yeah, by his impromptu pity party for you._

“It’s not your fault, you know.”

Jack takes it on straight. “I shouldn’t have been out there.” He’s responsible for the Chulak mess. _After the Abydos mess._ …and the president shut them down. _It might’ve had to happen._ Yeah, well, maybe next time he won’t have to wonder because he won’t get suicidal and sent on a job he hasn’t done in over a decade.

“But you could be in here.” Charlie checks carefully.

Jack shakes his head. “Don’t need me.”

He rolls his eyes. That’s a pretty lame jump. “Well of course they _need_ you, buddy. You’re the only capable special ops commander in the whole wide world.” He stretches his arms around it. “And you’ve got a whopping, what, week’s experience? I think you were conscious for a whole three hours more than me.”

Jack smirks. Makes up for the fact that he hasn’t thought about this crap since before Saddam invaded Kuwait.

“It’s not that I don’t _want_ you.” To stay, but Charlie’ll leave him the alternative interpretation. For about three seconds.

“I’m not your type.”

“So ask her out.”

Jack barely skids around that one. Bastard. “No.”

It’s way too definitive. And then quiet. “But it’s not quitting, you know.” Just to heal.

That earns Charlie the unaimed glare he expects. They have a ‘never talk about it’ rule. Or they would, if they talked about it. He finds another joke.


	8. Never Shut Off (Sam)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This contains my version of some “Children of the Gods” dialogue. I own as much of CotG as I do the rest of the series. No other spoilers, but some sad irony if you recall “In the Line of Duty”.

Sam jerks bolt upright in bed. Again. _No one’s chasing you._ She can’t turn it off. The terror of being hunted, alone. The anger at being beaten. _You need to fix the Stargate. You need to fix the Stargate. Wake up!!_ She’s giving herself whiplash. Sam plunges her head into the thin pillow.

_Fix it!_

_Goddamnit!_ She spins and kicks her feet into the cold floor. _You’re home, you freaking super genius._ _Why does your brain never shut off?_ She stares up at the dark walls. _Go back to sleep._ The light peaking in from the hallway is almost enough to make her jam a towel under it.

 _This is ridiculous._ She’ll be useless if she doesn’t sleep. There’s nothing urgent right now. Her talking paper and after-action report are already done. She hasn’t come up with much beyond the benefits and budget points that she always uses in DC, anyway. _And that’s worked out so well._

Both stray tears fall out. The guilt doesn’t. She’d fought for this for too long.

 _‘Let’s not fool ourselves here. We’d all be much better off if the Stargate had been left in the ground.’_ Sam squeezes her eyes in front of the recollection.

_‘With respect, General, we can’t bury our heads in the sand! We could still learn so much, bring so much back.’_

_‘What you could bring back is precisely what DC is afraid of, Captain. …However, the President agrees on the imminent issue. He’s approved this mission. Beyond that.’ He sighs. ‘We’ll see.’_

_‘ ‘We’ll see’?’_

_‘Make it go well, Colonel. If not… the plans for the Gate’s destruction still stand. We are shutting down.’_

Sam pops to her feet and gets dressed. If she’s going to spend the night blaming herself for catalyzing a galactic war and not yet saving the Gate, she’s at least going to do something productive with it. _‘Sir…the DHD, it’s broken.’_ …And convince herself she’s on Earth. Lou’s almost with his daughter now.

Sam sighs into the mirror. And that, at least, is something to be grateful for. A three-year-old girl has her dad back.

She unfastens her tie tab. It’s 0225 in the morning; she’s going open-collar.

 

Sam paces the hallways methodically, memorizing them. It’s not that they’re difficult. _No, you just blank when people are bleeding out and stuck in the Gate Room._ It’s that it’s not automatic yet. It wasn’t. Three hours later, it sure as hell is. _You’re the reason Apophis will destroy all this. Memorize the hallways, Captain._

She tucks her notepad under her arm and smooths her blouse. It’s cold down here.

 _Level sixteen, stairway Bravo. Holding cell five, secondary command bunker._ Entrance faces north. _Holding cell seven, Holding cell nine._ All disused. _You need to get a snake in there._ She flips to a new page and scribbles another subject line. _‘Potential Containment Protocols for Hosted Goa’uld’._

A security airman coughs behind her. Sam hands him her ID with a light nod. He’s an airman first class, in fact. A kid barely wet behind the ears, and he’s one of the closest people in the galaxy to the epicenter of interstellar chaos.

He looks bored.

Sam doesn’t blame him.

“Good morning, Airman Youtz.” She reads his nametape with a smile.

The young man looks up from her ID, apparently trying not to scowl at the prospect of opening his mouth before 0600. “Good morning, Ma’am.”

“Rough shift?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“You’re doing alright?”

“Outstanding, Ma’am.”

Sam manages not to roll her eyes at the standardized response. “You bored, Airman?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“What would make you less not-bored?”

That sneaks a smile past him. “Nothing, Ma’am.”

She sighs just this side of theatrically. “Uh huh. Well, think on it. We’d like to help.” She forces his eyes onto hers and holds them for a few seconds. _We really would._ And, _I’m pretty bored myself._ She’s not, not at all, but she’s comfortable lying about that part. It’s far better for him than looking as terrified as she feels. _This kid’s going to die because you were curious. Keep smiling, damnit._

_Save him._

Youtz nods his dismissal with a slightly wider grin.


	9. Too-Empty Room (Jack)

Jack rolls over in the too-comfortable bed. He wasn’t about to stick around base for more ‘testing’ from Charlie. _Liar._ He is not avoiding Daniel. But part of him also isn’t willing to just leave the Gate alone and fly to his DC place. Not with Hammond already out there. _He’s there because you FUBAR’d Chulak._

He throws an arm across the too-empty bed in the too-empty room. He hates nights. DC’s too far for the weekend anyway. _Minnesota’s closer._ Yeah, right. _‘Charlie, put away your bicycle!’ ‘Haha! Come on, dad, we’re gonna be late!’_

There’s a toy on the porch in Minnesota that’s blocking that way forever.

_‘Dad’_

It’s amazing how quickly he’d stopped thinking of himself that way.

_‘Haha! Daddy!’_

_You don’t deserve it._

_Fuck you._ That’s just what Skaara needs right now, to be chased around the galaxy by some recently suicidal has-been. The screw-up that doomed him by nuking the balance of power for the entire _galaxy_. _And who still doesn’t understand anything about it._ Who FUBAR’d the first mission after him so badly the president had to suspend Gate travel. Who doesn’t know the _first thing_ about alien mines or Jaffa ambushes.

Who doesn’t know the first thing about the goddamn fucking snake in Skaara’s head.

Jack punches the wall of some airport motel. He’d let him get snaked.

_You let him get snaked._

_‘What are you running from?!’_

He shatters a beer bottle against the dresser.

It drips on the floor.

He ups the maid’s tip again.

_You’re pathetic._

_You’d kill him, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this roller coaster still realistic?

**Author's Note:**

> Jack, Sam, and also Daniel's struggles with continue in the next two parts of this series.


End file.
